


Radio Drama

by Bejeweled_Rose



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Other, Sad Ending, Short One Shot, Someone give sissy a hug, between 1963 and 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28695771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bejeweled_Rose/pseuds/Bejeweled_Rose
Summary: It’s 1985, and Sissy Cooper just wants to listen to the radio.
Relationships: Harlan Cooper & Sissy Cooper, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Radio Drama

_“It’s a beautiful November here in California, so come on d-”_ The static whined as Sissy flipped through the radio stations. There were so many now, and none of them were quite right for her. 

She remembered back when she was a kid, dancing with her sister to “Pistol Packin Mama” and pretending to croon along to Frank Sinatra. 

Those days were long gone. Now, this was 1985. 

And today was November 24th, as the calendar on her wall kept insisting with big blocky text.

The day her world turned upside down. 

Her fingers turned the small knob on her radio. An infectious pop song about the power of love. She was very familiar with the power of love, and the decades-long hangover that came with it.

The radio dial glided to a new station. A bluesy country song filled the air. 

The twang of the guitar sent Sissy into a flashback. _Please_ , she begged her brain, _not today._

But the memories came back, vivid as always.

_Carl. Holding a gun. A bullet racing towards Sissy. Something that could only be explained as magic. The bullet racing back to Carl._

No bleach could get that blood stained gravel out of her head.

She switched the radio dial before misplaced tears for that abusive man could fill her eyes. Heavy metal shattered the static.

Suddenly she was back in her memories. 

_Underneath the barn. Mocked by a well-dressed woman, then kicked in the face. The woman moving towards_ him _. Helplessness. The fight above her becoming deafening._

There’s nothing more sobering than your peaceful home and contentment, being demolished around you.

Sissy’s fingers rotated the dial as a shiver sent up her spine. A choir sang the gospel praises of Jesus.

_Not these_ , she thought as her brain pulled up images, _for the love of God, not these_.

_Vague memories of_ her _. Stronger memories of church after_ she _left. Sissy, rejected by everyone around her. Priests claiming that she would burn for eternity. The f-word echoed around her. The nights spent hating herself._

She hadn’t been back to church since then. 

One hand switched the dial, and the other dug her fingernails into her forearm. The pain was enough to make her wince, but it was better than those memories. Nothing hurt more, except— 

The static finally faded out, as classical music faded in. The orchestra played an overwhelmingly emotional piece, and they were building up to the climax.

Tears filled her eyes, making her vision blurry as her mind sent her into the most painful memories. The happiest ones. 

_Vanya. Vanya’s there, reading a book to him. Harlan. The record player floats somewhat scratchy orchestra music into the air. Vanya smiles at Sissy. Harlan starts playing with a small car, as Vanya offers a dance to her. Vanya wasn’t warm, but refreshingly cold, like a lemonade after being outside all day. Vanya’s hands rested on her hips, and her hands rested on Vanya’s shoulders. Harlan is content with his car, and Sissy and Vanya are content with each other._

She had lost the two things in life that made her feel alive. 

Sissy’s hands stayed, gripping her arms. She missed them so much. She lost Vanya to something from a science fiction novel. She lost Harlan for good years ago. Vanya wasn’t there to save him that time.

Tears fell as the orchestra climbed. Sissy’s whole body trembled, until it was too much to stand. Her body sank slowly to the kitchen floor. Her back pressed up against the cabinet was the only thing preventing her from crumbling into a fetal position on the tile. The bitter taste of grief and salty tears filled her mouth. 

Her head gently perked up as she heard the honk of a car from outside. She quickly wiped her tears on her arm, brushing the small red indents from her nails in the process. A few knocks on the door banged in her ears as she twisted the doorknob.

“Hi, honey.” Sissy’s husband, John, halfway smiled as Sissy planted an unpassionate kiss on his cheek. 

His already mediocre smile faded to nothing when he saw her watery eyes. “Have you been crying again?”

Sissy nodded solemnly. John went to the radio and switched it off. 

“You know you can’t listen to this station, baby. It always gets you thinking of him.” 

Sissy thought of Vanya. John didn’t know about her. It was going to stay that way. John wouldn’t have approved. But John was only there because Sissy had fallen back into her dependency. She needed someone. Beds are too vast to lay in alone.

“I’ll start dinner.” Sissy said, to only herself. It’s not as if John would cook for her. John didn’t care. All he had to do was go to work, come home, and go to bed. Sissy was merely an insignificant piece of the puzzle. 

She switched off the radio. Nothing was quite right for her anyways.


End file.
